Interjections in Silence
by Lemon Zinger
Summary: Series of lyrics-based scenes that were prescribed to me by Azolean. Cure for the muse that needs a bit of a challenge.
1. Don't Stay

_ Sometimes I need to remember just to breathe_  
_ Sometimes I need you to stay away from me_  
_ Sometimes I'm in disbelief I didn't know_  
_ Somehow I need you to go_  
_ Don't stay_  
_ Forget our memories_  
_ Forget our possibilities_  
_ What you were changing me into_  
_ Just give me myself back and_  
_ Don't stay_

Linkin Park "Don't Stay"

* * *

"So just go then!" He cried, angry and bitter. Sometimes I hated that he was so stubborn and determined. Sometimes I really did just want to give in and forget his pleas.

I paused though, torn. "You don't mean that." I said. "Why do you say what you don't mean?"

"Because it is what you want to hear." He snarled back at me.

I realized he was right, so with as much strength as I could muster, I sat back down.

"No?" He asked me, giving me a cold look.

"No, I won't take it." I said softly, picking up the paper instead. "But…"

"But what?" He asked, giving me a somewhat gentler glance.

"Will you stay with me?" I asked.

Watson finally nodded, and for another day my morocco case stayed locked away.


	2. Dead to the World

_Remaining yet still uninvited_

_Those words scented my soul_

_(Lonely soul, Ocean Soul)_

_It's not the monsters under your bed_

_It's the man next door_

_That makes you fear, makes you cry_

_Nightwish "Dead to the World"_

* * *

It was a rare mood he was in when he was actually angry enough to storm off. And his door slammed shut with a loud bang that made the ceiling shudder a little, causing me to look up. I was now scared. It was not often I made him this angry. And each and every time I did I feared it would be the end of his patience and he would leave and be done with me and I kept vowing I would not make the same mistake again. After everything we had been through, after all the hard times, I was still letting myself get carried away by words I didn't mean.

And now I surprised myself. A droplet of water had landed on my arm, and I looked at it curiously, wondering what it was. Then it occurred to me that my eyes were very moist. It was a tear. The first one I remembered shedding in years. Since I was a child even. Since I had been young enough to be scared of the ghost stories Mycroft had told me. I had then dashed to my mother's soothing arms to comfort me.

Now I ran up the stairs to beg forgiveness from the only one who could stop my heart from beating miles a minute with fear.


	3. Leave Out All the Rest

_Forgetting all the hurt inside_  
_ You've learned to hide so well_  
_ Pretending someone else can come_  
_ And save me from myself_  
_ I can't be who you are_

_Linkin Park "Leave Out All the Rest"_

* * *

"Watson, are you quite alright?" Holmes asked, poking his head in the door to check on his flatmate.

There was no answer but a ragged breath that seemed to hold tears in it. Holmes had been woken by a loud cry and had immediately come to Watson's side. It was the first nightmare he'd encountered since Watson had returned to Baker Street following the three long years they had apart.

Holmes was feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"If that is all you are really going to ask then just don't bother." Came the grumpy reply.

Holmes realized whatever the nightmare had been, it had shaken Watson badly. He came into the room and did the only sane thing he could think to do – which was under normal circumstances completely ridiculous.

He left his cold brain outside the door and brought out a dusty heart full of emotions to pull Watson into a hug and do what he could to soothe him.

After all, he couldn't very well manage without him.


	4. Breaking the Habit

_I don't know what's worth fighting for_  
_ Or why I have to scream._  
_ I don't know why I instigate_  
_ And say what I don't mean._  
_ I don't know how I got this way_  
_ I know it's not alright._  
_ So I'm breaking the habit,_  
_ I'm breaking the habit_  
_ Tonight_

_Linkin Park "Breaking the Habit"_

* * *

I shouted until my voice was hoarse and shaky. It was not like he was really paying me any mind, but the fact that the neighbors could likely hear me and he was ignoring me only made me angrier.

He sat, solidly taking the onslaught and yet his face apprehensive. He had drawn out a rather nasty side of me. A side of me I hated more than I hated him at the moment. The loathing and menace in my voice was sharp and cold. I threw out words at him I didn't mean and would never have said if I wasn't so roused.

It wasn't as though he hadn't goaded me into it. It was his fault!

With a final show of complete fury I brought my fist slamming onto the table, neglecting to look first, and it collided with a teacup that instantly broke and several sharp ends mercilessly tore into my skin, ripping it and letting crimson droplets run down.

I had sucked in a breath filled with pain at the unexpected wound, but before I had even figured it out, he had rose and was standing in front of me, brushing away my left hand as he held a cloth to my right to try to stifle the bloodflow.

He tended to me with the gentleness of a friend, and in the silence I began to feel excessively uneasy.

And it was that night that I stopped letting my anger get the better of me after so many long years.

* * *

A/N: The dual-POV possiblity was unintentional, but enjoyable. Please let me know who you read it as and why.


	5. Easier to Run

_Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have_  
_ Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back_  
_ And never moving forward so there'd never be a past_

_ If I could change I would take back the pain I would_  
_ Retrace every wrong move that I made I would_  
_ If I could stand up and take the blame I would_  
_ If I could take all the shame to the grave I would_  
_ If I could change I would take back the pain I would_  
_ Retrace every wrong move that I made I would_  
_ If I could stand up and take the blame I would_  
_ I would take all my shame to the grave_

Linkin Park "Easier to Run"

* * *

He felt for it. Oh no. Oh no. No no no no. There was nothing. No beat. Nothing. Darkness. Pain and despairing darkness that drew the deep guttural scream from his throat. It was the scream of a man that was dying inside.

He was reliving them all. Every last smile. Every last worried face bending over him after another accident. Every last fight. Every last kind word. Every last thoughtful gesture.

He wanted to shove them away, and snarling like an animal he did so. He lashed out with a fist covered in blood not his own at his opponent. In a moment of sudden strength he took the man he'd just struck and grabbed his collar before slamming his head into the brick wall of the alleyway beside them. He felt something warm splatter on his face, but in the darkness it was impossible to know just what impact his blow had had on the man.

He felt himself struggling for air and realized he'd been screaming this whole time. One long, loud war cry. Now he gulped air but an arm reached around his waist and tried to throw him down.  
He was taller than his opponent and he merely used all his force to back up to the other wall and crush his opponent.

The last one charged him as he hit the wall and he felt the wind again torn from his overtaxed lungs.

He didn't care. You fear nothing when you want to die, and he didn't want to live. He never should've let him come. He never should've allowed this to happen. His friend was dead.

And as he brought down the last of his opponents and stood over him, the moon finally peaked out to stream light into the alley. The light outlined the last man standing. Covered in blood, he cursed his luck in living as he stumbled out of the alley.


	6. You're Scaring Me

**Previous chapter continued..._  
_**

_Ungrateful heart,_

_No one's taught you how to love_

_And I wouldn't know where to start_

_Your big blue eyes have seen all of me_

_Now I can't deceive,_

_Even with the more persuasive little lies_

_You're scaring me, I wanna go home_

-Maria Mena "You're Scaring Me"

* * *

"Holmes wait!" I called, astonished at the ferocity I'd just witnessed out of him. It wasn't human or natural, but I wasn't about to let him leave me behind, even if I was scared of following him.

Turning back, the detective stared as I followed him out of the alleyway. It was hard to see him properly with the light behind him, but I could make out the blood and I shuddered. He seemed almost savage, and there was little recognition in his eyes.

"Holmes what is it?" I bravely grabbed his arms and gently shook him a little. "What's wrong?" I tried to draw him out of whatever terribly dark netherworld he had fallen in.

"You died..." Holmes breathed. "I felt for your pulse..."

"Holmes I wasn't near you. That was someone else." I told him softly, pulling him into a hug. "Its okay, I'm right here."

Somehow, the hug worked. I expected him at any moment to completely loose it – go over the edge and be out of reach for forever. But as I hugged him he seemed to slowly return. And I felt him return the embrace and begin to breath better.

And I commanded the abyss to let my friend go.


	7. Hit the Floor

_(One minute you're on top)_  
_ The next you're not watch it drop_  
_ (Making your heart stop)_  
_ Just before you hit the floor_  
_ (One minute you're on top)_  
_ Next you're not missed your shot_  
_ (Making you're heart stop)_  
_ You think you've won_  
_ (And then its all gone)_

-Linkin Park "Hit the Floor"

* * *

I smiled as I watched them from afar. Just a pair of friends out for a stroll. I passed them once and signaled my driver to continue one. Then I looped around to get behind them. I signaled my driver to stop and I watched at they chatted the moments away.

Not for very much longer.

The one on the left was responsible for so many deaths and imprisonments. Kin and comrade alike, he'd seen them off to a life behind bars or death without a care. He didn't know them. He hadn't been their friends. He had been in their way and had done away with them.

Brother, friends, and father, all gone because of this one far, his hands were clean, but no more. It was time to take revenge.

So he drew out his pistol and fired, letting the man on the right take the bullet. He knew he'd be caught, and he didn't care. He just cared about settling the score. Let the other man suffer loss and be forced to live with it.

Now he could die in peace.


	8. Far Behind

_But then someday comes _  
_ Tomorrow holds a sense of what I fear for you _  
_ In my mind _  
_ As you trip the final line _  
_ And that cold day when you lost control _  
_ Shame you left my life so soon _  
_ You should have told me _  
_ Hey, but you left me far behind_

_Candlebox "Far Behind"_

* * *

I remembered it all too well. The urgent summons bringing me back to the village, the race to the falls, finding the note and sobbing. He was gone. I had to accept that. It wasn't like there was anything I could do to bring him back to life. I wandered around the falls again in my mind, wishing I could find something, anything.

But when I opened my eyes, it was just my study again. It was just the barren life of a widower that had little meaning. One that was becoming more and more difficult to live.

And then Holmes stepped into my sight and suddenly my reality came crashing down.


	9. End of All Hope

_And my wound it cuts so deep_  
_ Turn off the light and let me pull the plug_  
_ It is the end of all hope_  
_ To lose the child, the faith_  
_ To end all the innocence_  
_ To be someone like me _

* * *

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes . We did everything we could do. This is the file." Lestrade passed him the folder and Holmes opened it to find the case files and the final reports.

Tears stung his eyes. Happy homecoming indeed. He had no home now to come back to now.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes. Of course we had no way of knowing you were alive." Lestrade said. "But his will left everything to you, which then fell to your brother."

Holmes wasn't even listening and he rose to leave.

"Holmes?" Lestrade called after him. Holmes just kept walking.

And went to the graveside to swallow a bullet.

* * *

_Deathwish without a prayer_  
_ End of hope_  
_ End of love_  
_ End of time, the rest is silence_

_Nightwish "End of All Hope"_


	10. Everdream

_I'd take you away_  
_ Castaway on a lonely day_  
_ Bosom for a teary cheek_  
_ My song can but borrow your grace_

_Nightwish "Everdream"_

* * *

I took him by the sea. It was a quiet spot where the coastline was barren and quiet for him to rest. It was warm most of all. He could lie out on the blanket I had brought and soon he was resting peacefully.

Something he hadn't done in a long time.

I left him be. Threw rocks into the ocean like I was trying to chase away the ghosts I feared might come to haunt him. Found shells I thought he'd like and gathered them for him. In my own way, I was trying to be as considerate for him as he had been for me. I remembered his own interference in my life when bringing me to the Cornish coast to protect my fatigue from forever ruining my health and now mirrored his kindness.

I hated vacations. Fresh air is a luxury I didn't seek, but for him, I had sought out the best spot on the continent and paid for a lengthy stay. If it was necessary, I would even extend it out longer.

I was not a man familiar with prayers, but my pleas to God were filled with the hopes that his health would improve. He was ragged and worn down. I was all too aware that his age was catching up with him. His health had never been superb since I had made his acquaintance in my laboratory at St. Bartholomew's, but age was making it even more difficult.

And the last case had nearly been the death of him. I looked back at him to see him in the throes of a nightmare and took three long strides to reach his side, grasping his hand and lifting his head as I gently roused him.

"Watson, Watson it's alright." I called as loudly as it took to bring him back from the dark world.

His eyes opened moist and laden with tears. I just held him for a while, letting him breathe and regain his thoughts.

"Sorry Holmes." He breathed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"No, no, you needed it dear chap." I replied tenderly. When had his hair grown so white? When had his face gotten those wrinkles? Where was the sparkle in his eyes? "Rest, my dear friend please, rest."

With hardly a protest – which startled me – he obeyed my entreaty.


	11. Given Up

_I've given up_

_I'm sick of feeling_

_Is there nothing you can say?_

_Take this all away_

_I'm suffocating!_

_Tell me what the heck is_

_Wrong with me?_

_Linkin Park "Given Up"_

* * *

"I don't care!" I bellowed, whirling around at him.

"After all we have been through together that statement is unworthy of you." He hissed, his own temper getting the better of him.

"I don't care!" I repeated.

"No, that's just it, you do care, because if you didn't this wouldn't matter so much to you." He said, his tone softer.

The logic in his words shook me to the core. He was right. If I didn't care so much, his long disappearance wouldn't have had any affect on me. I would be in bed, happily oblivious. I wouldn't feel the panic welling up in my hour after hour as I waited for him.

I wanted to stop caring, but I couldn't. There was no going back, and there was nothing I could do to stop caring. Much as I wanted to give up all the hours of worrying and fretting over him, I was too reliant on the companionship of someone who had come to mean more to me than my own life.


	12. Name

_And scars are souvenirs you never lose._  
_ The past is never far._  
_ Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?_  
_ Did you get to be a star?_  
_ And don't it make you sad to know that life_  
_ Is more than who we are?_

Goo Goo Dolls "Name"

* * *

"And was it worth it?" I asked him, completely irate by his total lack of care when it came to his own life. He had nearly died. He was lucky to be lying in a hospital, but to hear him complain of it pushed me over the edge.

"I solved the case." He said, his tone still sulky.

"Holmes you brought this on yourself! You show no regard to the fact you are human. I hate to burst your delusion, but you are as capable of dying as the rest of us!" I finally let it out. I knew he would be annoyed, but it was something that I had needed to say for a lot time.

"Doctor I am completely aware of the fact, but the cases are the only life I have, so in losing them I would also lose my life." He said.

So that was it. We were at a standstill.

I turned to leave, unable to stand staying. "When?" I asked. "When will the cost be more than you are willing to pay?" I left without another word.

I didn't hear the soft answer he did utter: "you."


	13. In Between

_I cannot explain to you _  
_ In anything I say or do _  
_ I hope the actions speak the words they can _  
_ For my pride and my promise _  
_ For my lies and how the truth gets in the way _  
_ The things I want to say to you get lost before they come _  
_ The only thing that's worse than one is none_

Linkin Park "In Between"

* * *

I had made a mistake. He was justified for his mistrust of me. He was justified in keeping a steady distance between us. But as the weeks stretched to nearly a month of barely any time spent together I was feeling so despondent. Something I was very unused to.  
It was not as if I hadn't tried. I was doing everything I knew to do to try to win him back. Gifts left without any reason. The sitting room stayed clean. I didn't even play unless he was out. I would give him all the help he would allow. I even sought advice from mutual friends, who merely told me I needed to do more.  
What more could I do?  
I had a great mind and I couldn't solve this tangled knot. And after filling the room with smoke from several hours of blowing on my pipe I heard the door open. With sudden haste I sprang to the window and opened it. Using the nearest thing to hand –a newspaper –I began to fan the air, trying to chase most of the fog out of the room. I heard him taking the stairs slowly and knew automatically his wound was acting up again.  
I fanned faster but he opened the door before the room had cleared. He gave me a funny look. "What are you up to?"  
"I was smoking." I explained.  
"I see that." Watson's reply was testy.  
"I was trying to air out the room." I said. "For you."  
Watson just shrugged. "I can go to my room. Looks like you are engaged."  
"I'm not. I mean I am, but it's something I can't solve." I replied. "I was hoping... hoping you could help me."  
Watson's eyebrow was. "I thought I was an idiot."  
"I never said that!" I protested.  
"You implied it." Watson said bitterly.  
"I want to make things right!" I finally cried, allowing the desperation to creep into my voice. "I want your forgiveness and your trust! I want you to work with me again! I want you to talk to me and awknowlege my existence and know how sorry I am! But I don't know how! I don't know how to make things right so how do I do it?" I finally just asked him.  
"You just did." Watson finally smiled.


	14. Numb

_I'm tired of being what you want me to be_

_Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface_

_Don't know what you're expecting of me_

_Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you_

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_I've become so numb, I can't feel you there_

_Become so tired, so much more aware_

_I'm becoming this, all I want to do_

_Is be more like me and be less like you_

* * *

"Watson didn't of course grasp this at first and was left to discover the solution when we reached the station." Holmes concluded his tale.

Watson growled as Holmes criticized his moves once again in front of Lestrade. It was a final piece of frustration that was turning his tired mind even darker. Holmes just didn't grasp that not every human being was so extraordinary. It was like Watson himself could never live up to the expectations Holmes had of him. Just because he wasn't as wise at Holmes didn't mean he was a fool.

"For as foolish as you think I am you certainly show little common sense in risking that incredible brain of yours in your daring escapades." He hissed. "You might've been killed by that man without my intervention!"

* * *

_Can't you see that you're smothering me,_

_Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control?_

_'Cause everything that you thought I would be_

_Has fallen apart right in front of you._

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_Every step that I take is another mistake to you._

_(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_

_And every second I waste is more than I can take. _

_I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,_

_Become so tired, so much more aware_

_I'm becoming this, all I want to do_

_Is be more like me and be less like you._

* * *

Holmes glared at the doctor seated opposite of him. He was always smothering Holmes. Always trying to tie a leash on him and keep tabs on him. Holmes couldn't be chained. He refused to be held back by anyone's fears when the solution of a case was in his grasp. It was clear the barb was intended to try to buoy Watson's failing confidence in the fact he hadn't caught onto the solution nearly as fast, but Holmes wasn't having it.

"Sounds like a wonderful job done gentlemen, I'd better get back to the missus." Lestrade said, rising in haste to leave. He'd not witnessed many of their arguments, but nor did he want to.

"Very well, goodnight Lestrade." Watson said.

Their eyes remained locked on one another and Lestrade gave a warning to Mrs. Hudson before he left.

* * *

_And I know_

_I may end up failing too._

_But I know_

_You were just like me with someone disappointed in you._

_I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,_

_Become so tired, so much more aware._

_I'm becoming this, all I want to do_

_Is be more like me and be less like you._

_Linkin Park "Numb"  
_

* * *

"I am tired of you making me sound like a bloody fool Holmes!" Watson hissed.

At the same time, Holmes growled out a protest of his own. "I will not be held back during a case to satisfy your safety concerns!"

They just stared at each other for a moment, each one willing the other to back down.

"I give you special leave to join me on cases, I don't need your mothering." Holmes growled.

"And I don't have to come and patch you up time and time again. If you don't want to employ my services any longer there are scores of doctors that will see you the next time you are injured." Watson rose to leave.

"Wait…" Holmes called just as Watson reached the door.

Watson paused, equally unhappy with the tension between them. He knew if he stormed out he would lose in the end eventually.

"If I promise to try not to criticize you anymore will you try to accept my recklessness more?" He asked.

A compromise. The closest thing they could reach to being completely happy. It was the best deal he could get. "Very well, but when I do speak up, you must hear me out before dashing off." Watson said. "If I speak up, it's because I genuinely want to see the case concluded with as little bloodshed as necessary. And if anyone were to hurt you I'm afraid I would have no choice but to kill them. And if I got hurt…"

Holmes' eyes grew large. He had to accept the doctors terms, difficult as it would be. "Very well doctor, I agree."


	15. Higher

_So let's go there _  
_ Let's make our escape _  
_ Come on, let's go there_

_Creed "Higher" _

* * *

"Do you want to attend the play tonight?" Watson asked, looking up from the paper he was reading.

I was engrossed in a delicate experiment and didn't even look up at him. "No, I'm quite busy Doctor." I answered, distracted.

I heard him sigh and cleared my throat. "You can have the key to my desk drawer if you would like to go." I offered. I fished out the key from my pocket and held it out, giving him leave to the money he kept from himself.

"No, I merely thought you might want to get out of the flat for a bit." Watson replied.

I looked up at him, thoroughly puzzled. He wanted to go, but he wouldn't go alone. It made no sense to deny one entertainment simply for lack of company. I had learned that long ago. I wasn't very good company either. How had I run into someone desperate enough to accept my company when he could have any one else in London that he wanted? He was kind and modest, easy for anyone to like.

And I was again only thinking of myself.

"What are you working on?" He asked, noting my gaze. His selflessness moved me to do something I was unaccustomed to – I put his wishes above my own.

I began to clean up and put things away. "Never mind, I want to go out." I said, rising.

He fixed me with a curious look, but I avoided scrutiny by feigning impatience. "Hurry, fetch your coat!"

* * *

**Don't know why those are the lyrics that popped out at me. Hmm.**


	16. The Scientist

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_

_You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you, tell you I need you_

_Tell you I set you apart_

_Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions_

_Oh, let's go back to the start_

_Running in circles, coming up tails_

_Heads on a science apart_

* * *

Holmes dashed up the steps, the telegram in his hand making his heart race as he took the stairs two at a time to reach the top as quick as he could. He thanked Mrs. Hudson's thoughtfulness in warning him about what Watson intended to do.

Watson was already on the way down, a bag in hand. "Holmes?" Watson looked at him, some surprise in his features.

"Watson, I am so sorry dear fellow. Please, don't do this."

Watson shook his head. "This isn't working Holmes."

Holmes wouldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. "Watson this can work. I didn't mean it!"

Watson gave him a disbelieving look. "Holmes, I've heard enough." He tried to push past the consulting detective.

Holmes barred his path. "Watson, my dear friend, please forgive me!" He couldn't let go. Not now. He had just returned to London, he didn't want to lose his friend. They had only been living together for three months since the hiatus.

* * *

_Nobody said it was easy_

_It's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

_Oh, take me back to the start_

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures_

_Pulling the puzzles apart_

_Questions of science, science and progress_

_Do not speak as loud as my heart_

* * *

Watson shook his head. "Holmes you always do this! You care not when the offense is given but now that I won't take anymore you beg for forgiveness."

Holmes swallowed. "I am sorry!"

"For what, hurting me, or sorry that I'm not going to be here for you to use anymore?" Watson growled. He was tired of being Holmes' helper and assistant, but being ridiculed by him at every turn.

Holmes thought about it. Was he really that selfish in the eyes of his companion?

Then he decided that he was that selfish.

He moved to one side. "I am sorry. If you are unhappy here I hope you find it somewhere else." I said genuinely.

Grasping his bag tightly, Watson walked by him, down the stairs, and out the door.

* * *

Deserves an explanation and continuation I know, I'm sorry...


	17. Fix You

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed_  
_ When you get what you want, but not what you need_  
_ When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep_  
_ Stuck in reverse_  
_ And the tears come streaming down your face_  
_ When you lose something you can't replace_  
_ When you love someone, but it goes to waste_  
_Could it be worse?_

* * *

Watson walked home, shivering as the cold rain in large droplets down his neck and onto his back. He felt tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. He couldn't believe he was hurting this bad. After meeting so many woman, the pain of losing one he cared about so much hurt him to the core.

She'd cast him off like an unwanted plaything. Like it was nothing to toss him to the side and even to immediately take a seat at another table with another man. It had been they're fourth evening together, and she had moved on without any thought.

He had put his time and heart into her and she had torn it out, stomped it on the ground, called him an idiot and coward, and then went to sit with someone else like it had all been planned.

He hurt so bad it actually clouded the fact he was dizzy and freezing. He looked up to get his bearings and realized he'd passed his flat completely. Turning and walking back he muttered darkly to himself. He sneezed as he came to his door, and struggled with the key.

* * *

_Lights will guide you home_  
_ And ignite your bones_  
_ And I will try to fix you_

* * *

It was a new thing for me, watching my friend and flatmate dallying with a lady that he had met. They became fast friends and I was feeling a little bit jealous of all the time he was spending with her. However, when I heard him coming in only a half-hour after his departure I knew something was wrong.

I rushed downstairs, worried in what state I'd find him. Even as he shed his coat I could see the rain had soaked him through. Why he had been out in it so long was a mystery.

"Watson!" I cried, reaching his side just as he swayed unsteady on his feet. I swiftly leant my support and a hand flew to his brow. "To bed, now." I ordered. I didn't ask any questions, I merely led him upstairs.

Instead of guiding him up more stairs, I turned him into my room, sitting him down and quickly dashing upstairs to fetch him a clean change of clothes. I helped him change, something we were strangely able to do for one another, and then gently laid him back on the pillow before grabbing his medical bag.

He didn't protest as I took his temperature and found he did intend have a fever. He coughed and I winced at the sound. He looked miserable and it sounded like he was very ill indeed.

I notified Dr. Cummings, but to my frustration I received a reply that it would be some hours at least before he could come. I looked over at my friend and knew I had to manage alone.

I had done it a handful of times, but never without help and instructions.

* * *

_And high up above or down below_  
_ When you're too in love to let it go_  
_ But if you never try you'll never know_  
_ Just what you're worth_

* * *

Somehow I had gotten home and in bed. I didn't remember it when I woke the next morning. I realized I was in Holmes' bed and sat up, startled, but then I broke into a coughing fit that made it painfully clear I was ill.

"Lay down." Holmes was there pushing me back against the pillows and bringing up the blankets. "Just breath easy."

It was easier said than done, but out of breath as I was I didn't protest him.

"Watson what happened dear fellow?" He asked, his hand resting on mine.

I looked away. "I walked home. I take it I got here?"

"Yes, you practically fainted at the front door. Your fever has only just recently receded. Doctor Cummings stopped by long enough to give you a check and me instructions, but he said you're on the mend." Holmes said.

I nodded, and then coughed again. I couldn't clear my throat and I fought panic, as my cheeks grew red from the struggle. Holmes' strong arms sat me up a little in bed and the cough eventually subsided, but it left me gasping for air for several long minutes. The breaths I took were short and I felt another wave of dizziness.

"Could you manage a drink my friend?" Holmes asked.

I knew it would be best, so I nodded my head. Kindly, Holmes brought the cup to my lips, letting me sip it slowly.

I only managed about six swallows before I turned my head away, moaning with discomfort.

Holmes let it go and set the cup down. "Easy dear fellow." He said, gently rubbing my hand with his thumb. I didn't think he even realized he was doing it, but it was soothing, and after the exhaustion I was feeling, it sent me into a deep sleep

* * *

_Tears stream down on your face_  
_ When you lose something you cannot replace_  
_ Tears stream down on your face_  
_ And I..._

* * *

When Watson woke up a few hours later, he was looking only slightly better, but the cough was down. I was still by his side, refusing to leave. He opened his eyes and looked at me, not saying much of anything.

"Want some water?" I asked. I had been told fluids were important to his recovery.

He nodded to me and I brought the glass to his lips and he slowly took small sips. When he finished the glass he turned away and I thought I saw tears in his eyes.  
"Are you in pain?" I asked in some concern.

He shook his head. "Not physically." He rasped.

I was curious by his answer and cocked my head. I didn't ask him, but he offered an explanation on his own.

"Rachel left me." Watson said. I was unaware of the parlance of lovers, but I understood enough to grasp that Watson had been betrayed and was hurt by her abandonment.

I gave him an awkward hug. "She has no idea what a wonderful person she's missing out on knowing. I count myself fortunate in having your friendship." I said.

To my surprise he started to cry. What had I said wrong? I pulled back, but he only grasped me tighter, returning the embrace. "Thank you Holmes." He whispered.


	18. Nobody's Listening

_But nobody's listening_

_Call to you so clearly_

_But you don't want to hear me_

_Told you everything loud and clear_

_But nobody's listening_

_I got a_

_Heart full of pain, head full of stress_

_Handful of anger, held in my chest_

_And everything left is a waste of time_

_Linkin Park "Nobody's Listening"_

* * *

I returned to the room where the two inspectors and Watson sat still looking over the papers. It was a moment before I could get over my frustration with them. They could be such fools at times and yet I knew I needed their help.

"Well Lestrade, does it make sense now?" I asked impatiently. I had been ordered by Watson to step outside after a bit of an argument had broken out between us and now I returned hoping that the dimwitted man grasped what I had been trying to explain.

"I think if we circle around here doctor we should be able to effectively force them to go this way." Lestrade said, looking over a map of London that was spread across the desk.

"Lestrade?" I tried again.

"I agree Lestrade, it will make them take this road and we can easily bottleneck them here." Watson was saying, pointing out the locations.

"Perfect idea gentlemen." Gregson said, hoping off the edge of the desk he had perched on.

"Well, lets go." Lestrade said, rising.

I huffed impatiently. "About time." I said.

None of them said a word to me. I suddenly realized this was not coincidence as they all filed out without even seeming to acknowledge me.

I was being ignored.

Furious, I decided I didn't need them. I barged past them and left, intending to go after the criminals myself. I hurried down the road, my steps pounding the pavement as I walked.


	19. Anthem of the Angels

_Cold light above us_

_Hope fills the heart and fades away_

_Skin white as winter_

_As the sky returns to gray_

_Days go on forever_

_But I have not left your side_

_We can chase the dark together_

_If you go then so will I_

_There is nothing left of you_

_I can see it in your eyes_

_Sing the anthem of the angels_

_And say the last goodbye_

_I keep holding onto you_

_But I can't bring you back to life_

_Sing the anthem of the angels_

_Then say the last goodbye_

_Breaking Benjamin "Anthem of the Angels"_

* * *

Holmes swung the poker, catching the man on his head. He turned around and fell onto his belly. Holmes heard a sickening sound of ripping flesh and he realized the man had just fallen onto his knife, killing himself.

Then he remember Watson.

Running back into the other room he knelt beside his gasping friend and surveyed the damage. Watson's face had beads of sweat and it was pale. His lips moved as he tried to speak, but Holmes shook his head. "Don't speak." He ordered.

He looked at the wound. It was a gash in the doctor's stomach that had done fatal damage. Holmes knew this, but he didn't allow himself to understand it.

"Holmes." Watson's irregular breathing was broken by the name. "Please…"

Holmes felt something brush his hands and he looked to see Watson handing him the revolver. His revolver.

Watson shuddered and his face contorted with pain. A tear escaped his eye.

Holmes understood what Watson was asking for, but he didn't want to. He wanted Watson to live.

"Please Holmes…" Watson gripped his hand and moaned, his eyes squeezing shut as the agony rippled through his dying body.

Holmes couldn't watch his friend go through this. Somehow mustering the courage, he gently planted a kiss on Watson's brow, rose and took aim.

"You will always be my dear friend." He said.

"Thank you Holmes." Watson gasped. He looked relieved as he faced the gun.

_Bang._

There was a hole where the bullet had entered, mercifully claiming Watson's life. The detective began to shake and he dropped the weapon, kneeling down beside his friend and cradling the doctor in his arms.

He sobbed. He sobbed for several minutes, his emotions running wild. It was a long time before he finally managed to clear the fog in his mind to see the answer lying at his side.

He picked up the gun, held it to his head.

_Click._


	20. The Mass

_Always increasing_  
_ Or decreasing_  
_ The detestable life_  
_ Now difficult_  
_ And then easy_  
_ With your games sharpens_

_Now difficult_  
_ And then easy_  
_ With your games sharpens_  
_ Poverty_  
_ Power_  
_ Dissolves like ice_

_Era "The Mass_

* * *

I watched him as he sprang out of the door. I had to rush to keep up. Suddenly he was alert. Like a cat he prowled down Baker Street in the midst of the storm pounding the city around us. His long coat swirled around his tall legs as he walked and his low cap hid most of his face. In this wild torrent he looked quite impressive.

I was amazed at the change that had come over him since the morning. He had been languid and was readying to again stimulate his mind with the needle, but fortunately a letter had arrived by post in enough time to prevent it and he had been hot on the trail ever since. The man who had only last night lamented the lack of interest he held in this world was now dashing off in the midst of a torrent that shook the very ground beneath us to save it. Or some small part of it.

I was, as usual, not even aware of all the facts and what he had figured out. I never complained. I had watched so many of his games unfold, leaving the puzzle solved. The work held its own reward, and he served the wealthy as diligently as he helped the poor. It didn't matter who the client was, so long as the puzzle was something for his mind to devour and untangle. Suddenly alive and afire, he was illuminated for a moment with another bright flash of lightning as we marched boldly down the street.

I was walking beside the world's only private consulting detective. And he was hot on the trail. It has always been my greatest privilege to walk behind him.

* * *

Dedicated to Azolean, who has me hooked on this song. Really good I must say!


	21. What's Left of Me

_Watch my life,_  
_ Pass me by,_  
_ In the rear view mirror_  
_ Pictures frozen in time_  
_ Are becoming clearer_  
_ I don't wanna waste another day_  
_ Stuck in the shadow of my mistakes_

* * *

Holmes left the scene without another word, angrily tearing down the hallway and out of the building. His steps were quick and hard, and he marched towards his home with anger running through every fiber of his being. He had been bested. He was so angry he didn't know what to do about it anymore.

He could not believe he had been bested. All this time he thought himself the best. He didn't just solve cases for a hobby or job. They were his life! They meant more to him than any other being on the planet and to have victory snatched from him while he worked feverishly was enraging.

He continued to storm home.

* * *

_Now I'm broken,_  
_ And I'm faded,_  
_ I'm half the man I thought I would be:_  
_ But you can have what's left of me_

* * *

When he got to the flat an hour later he found Watson sitting by the fire with some tea. A glass of brandy was on the small stand beside Holmes' chair and he took it, but didn't sit down. Instead he paced restlessly.

"Enjoy your walk?" Watson asked from behind his newspaper.

"Humph." Holmes growled, taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't start." Watson chided, setting down his paper for a moment to give his friend a warning look.

"That was my case!" Holmes exploded.

* * *

_I've been dying inside,_  
_ Little by little,_  
_ No where to go,_  
_ But going out of my mind_  
_ In endless circles,_  
_ Running from my self until,_  
_ You gave me a reason for standing still_

* * *

"Sit down!" Watson bellowed, rising.

Holmes could read the anger on his friend's face and he snarled. "Why, so you can tell me I'm such a good detective and to not let this little failure stop me and – "

"Sit down!" Watson's military voice came back. And Holmes was silenced and in his seat in a second.

Watson gave him a look. "Five minutes, and then you can do as you please." He said, giving his fellow-lodger a warning look.

"Now I know you like to think you're the most brilliant mind in the world, but tonight you finally saw three of us get to the solution faster than you. Now you sit here wallowing in self-pity and condemnation about it! How dare you!"

* * *

_It's falling faster,_  
_ Barely breathing,_  
_ Give me something,_  
_ To believe in_  
_ Tell me: It's not all in my head_

* * *

"Your point is made, I'm conceited then." Holmes hissed, his own ire rising.

"Why would you have trained us if you didn't want us to learn?! Why would you waste your time and effort in publishing papers and telling me about your deductions if you didn't intend for me to learn and try to copy you? For years I've been an idiot – "

"Watson – " Holmes tried to cut him off.

"No, you'll listen to me Holmes! I've heard it from your own mouth that I'm by no means impressive when it comes to my mental capabilities and tonight for just a few moments the three of us actually felt like we'd accomplished something. For once I felt like I had honored your time and teaching by using my head to solve something and all you can do is sit there feeling sorry for yourself!"

* * *

_Take what's left_  
_ Of this man_  
_ Make me whole_  
_ Once again_

* * *

Holmes gaped at him with an open mouth, taking in what he was saying. He was speechless though, so Watson went on. "Finally the three of us are one step ahead of you and we feel like you've helped us and you sit here and act like that was never your intention. Well if you have no hope for us why did you try? Because I have learned you do everything for a reason. You're so cold and calculating that I know you to work with a motive. If you don't intend to pass on your skills then what will happen to the world when you really die? We just lose your brilliant skills and that's it? The crimes won't go away so why should your knowledge of how to stop them?"

Holmes realized his friend was right. He sighed. "I am sorry, my dear fellow." He said sincerely.

* * *

_I've been dying inside you see_  
_ I'm going out of my mind_  
_ Out of my mind_  
_ I'm just running in circles all the time_  
_ Will you take what's left_  
_ Will you take what's left_  
_ Will you take what's left of me?  
Nick Lachey "What's Left Of Me"  
_

* * *

Watson sighed. "It's alright Holmes I forgive you. I do have one small bit of expertise that you don't and that is social graces. So tomorrow you get your lesson in how to properly congratulate two successful Scotland Yarders." He announced with a smirk.

"No! I will not!" Holmes said, stomping his foot like an angry child.

"You will, or I will publish this case." Watson said with a gleam in his eye.

Holmes pouted and folded his arms. "Very well then."

Watson smiled once again. "Goodnight old fellow, sleep well." He said, turning to leave the sitting room. He shook his head as he closed the door behind him, wondering just how astonished Gregson and Lestrade would be.

* * *

Okay, I know the song and story don't seem to fit the greatest, but that is seriously what I imagined when I listened to this song. Holmes has always seemed like he only cares about his own work and without that he's nothing and well, Watson gives him a greater goal to think about too :)


	22. I Will Carry You

_Yeah I know it hurts_  
_ Yeah I know you're scared _  
_ Walking down the road that leads to who knows where._  
_ Don't you hang your head _  
_ don't you give up yet _  
_ When courage starts to disappear I will be right here._

_When your world breaks down _  
_ and the voices tell you turn around. _  
_ When your dreams give out _  
_ I will carry you, carry you. _  
_ When the stars go blind _  
_ and the darkness starts to flood your eyes. _  
_ When you're falling behind, I will carry you._

* * *

Watson was trying to outrun them, but the thugs were much faster than he could hope to be with a limp. Struggling to try to find an open shop to duck into or a constable, he looked around wildly. He was tired after the long evening by the girl's bedside and emotionally drained from the loss. He had had a terrible day as it was.  
Now this. A man grabbed him and threw him backwards into a snow bank. Watson took a moment to gather his senses before he could react, but it was too late. The man was on him with a gun at his head. "Goods now!" He ordered boldly.  
"I have nothing!" Watson replied.  
"Your ring." The man pointed at Watson's hand.  
"No." Watson stubbornly refused.  
The man used the Burt of his weapon to club Watson's head. "Give it to me!"  
"No!" Watson closed his fist. "This ring is mine."  
"You're gonna wish you had just given it up!" The man said, proceding to hit and kick Watson. Watson curled into a ball, crying out with each blow, but refusing to give in.  
Just as he began to black out, he heard his attacker shout in surprise and a gun going off.

* * *

_Everybody cries, _  
_ Everybody bleeds, _  
_ No one ever said that lifes an easy thing. _  
_ Thats the beauty of it, _  
_ when you lose your way, _  
_ close your eyes and go to sleep _  
_ and wake up to another day._

_When your world breaks down _  
_ and the voices tell you turn around. _  
_ When your dreams give out _  
_ I will carry you, carry you. _  
_ When the stars go blind _  
_ and the darkness starts to flood your eyes. _  
_ When you're falling behind, I will carry you._

* * *

Watson moaned as he came-to. He hurt in a thousand places and yet he felt himself in a warm bed. He immediately felt for his ring and felt a flood of relief as he found the golden band still in its place.  
"Easy there old fellow." Holmes said. Watson looked up to see him entering and he realized he was iin Holmes' bed.  
He couldn't really argue with the arrangement at the moment.  
"Thanks Holmes." He said.  
"For what?" Holmes snorted. "I had little to do with this."  
Watson gave him a puzzled look. "It wasn't you...?" He asked. "In the alleyway?" For his injuries, he remembered the events with surprising clarity.  
Holmes shook his head. "A man dropped you off. Said he found you and owed you a debt."  
"Who was he?" Watson asked with wonder. He knew of no one that owed him anything. Though he often tended to some of London's poorest inhabitants, he never asked for a fee and typically refused one. He'd take a cup of tea or a small gift, but never anything too costly. He could think of two or three men that might say they owed him, but it didn't help him identify the mysterious rescuer.  
"I don't know Watson. He has stopped by a few times to ask Mrs. Hudson how you were fairing. Twice he brought a bag of food. He doesn't talk to me though." Holmes said.  
Mrs. Hudson came up, bearing a scarf Watson recognized to be his own. "He stopped again Holmes... oh good morning doctor!" She greeted with a smile.  
"Where is he?" Holmes asked.  
"He just left Mr. Holmes." Mrs. Hudson asked.  
Holmes rose and left quickly, leaving his puzzled friends behind.

* * *

_You should know now that you're not alone. _  
_ Take my heart and we will find, you will find, your way home._

_When your dreams give out _  
_ I will carry you, carry you. _  
_ When the stars go blind _  
_ and the darkness starts to flood your eyes. _  
_ When you're falling behind, _  
_ I will carry you, carry you, _  
_ I will carry you, carry you, _  
_ I will carry you, carry you, _  
_ I will carry you._

_Clay Aiken "I Will Carry You"  
_

* * *

Holmes dashed off down the road, scanning everyone for the correct height. He spotted the man by the jacket and took off in pursuit. When the man showed no intention of running away he slowed his pursuit.  
"I beg you don't reveal me Mr. Holmes. I care for him and can look after him, but no one can know me. Doesn't it satisfy you that he has has protection?" The man asked, continuing to walk.  
Holmes followed, staying back so he didn't see the man's face.  
"He wants to know."  
"No, really he doesn't. He would be better off not knowing. Just trust me. He is dearer to you than your own life, so why not just be happy to know he is guarded?"  
Holmes growled. "I hate leaving a mystery unsolved."  
"But you will do it. Because you even love him more than your cases." The man said.  
Holmes stopped dead, letting the man go. Whoever he was, he knew more than most people would ever come to realize.

* * *

Again, regardless of how weird it sounds this is what I came up with for this song.


	23. Pull Me Under

_I'm gonna ride on my addiction tide_

_Why don't you come and watch me die_

_Can't get enough, you know I never get enough_

_I'm gonna do it 'til I die_

_And every time, I throw my face against the wall_

_And just to know that I am alive_

_My mind is getting twisted and my body's getting numb_

_I have succeeded the ultimate rush_

_Leaving it all behind I need my mind to spin me around_

_Pull me under_

_Suck me in, spit me out_

_Hold on tight, 'cause I am going down_

_I am what the drugs make me_

_Pain "Pull Me Under"_

* * *

Watson had become aware of his cocaine and morphine supply only two months earlier. It was the sort of thing that made his skin crawl as a doctor. He knew what those drugs could do to someone after prolonged use, and he desperately looked for some way to break his roommate and friend of the addiction.

Holmes, however, would have none of it. He was too energized by the mental stimulation he found from his cases or the drugs. He claimed the boredom and monotony of this life would drive him to insanity without some artificial stimuli.

While Watson could not deny that Holmes seemed livelier during one of his cases, he could find no signs of mental instability save the depression that hung over him when he was unemployed. Holmes would give into fits of temper or play some mournful dirge on the violin for hours.

When he would have his stimulation at last, he would retreat into quiet, private thought occasionally broken by a sound. When the first dose was beginning to wear off he'd begin readying the needle for another round unless Watson could draw him to read the papers for the possibility of a puzzle or a case presented itself at their door.

* * *

_I am doing time in my toasted mind_

_Crash and burn, I guess I never learn_

_Bring me down on my knees and drag me through the dirt_

_Got nowhere to hide_

_Leaving it all behind_

_I need the drugs to spin me around_

_Pull me under_

_Suck me in, spit me out_

_Hold on tight, 'cause I am going down_

_I am what the drugs make me_

_I fall over_

_Shut me up, throw me out_

_Hold on tight, 'cause I am going down_

_I let the drugs help me_

* * *

The black mood had been developing over the last few days and Watson dreaded watching Holmes inject the syringe into his blood. He was trying not to let it ruin his breakfast as Holmes sat sprawled in his chair staring at nothing in particular. Holmes laughed a bit at nothing and Watson sent him a look, glaring daggers at his friend that was again about to use the needle to get the mental high he craved. He had had enough. It was infuriating that he would become so addicted to the drugs.

Finally fed up, Watson rose from his place. "Holmes that is enough! You must stop this!" He was so angry that he was ready and willing to help Holmes get over this and Holmes refused his help at every turn. It was maddening to be a doctor and be held away by a friend.

Holmes looked at his friend, maintaining his composure. "It is my life doctor." He hissed. "And I will make my own decisions."

"Those drugs could ruin your life!"

"I am willing to take that risk!" Holmes snapped.


	24. Work

_ Just in case, I will leave my things packed_

_So I can run away_

_I cannot trust these voices_

_I don't have a line of prospects_

_That can give some kind of peace_

_There is nothing left to cling to_

_That can bring me sweet release_

_I have no fear of drowning_

_It's the breathing that's taking all this work_

_Do you know what I mean when I say,_

_"I don't want to be alone"?_

_What I mean when I say,_

_"I don't want to be alone"_

_Jars of Clay "Work"_

* * *

"Holmes please, you don't have to do this!" Watson cried.

"I must!" Holmes protested.

Watson glared at him. "I would think for someone with such incredible mental powers you would show a little more concern about this!"

"Doctor if I cared what you, or anyone else thought, I would say so. In fact the only reason I tolerate any of you is because you provide me with work and occasional amusement over your foolishness!" Holmes screamed.

Watson, his face going deadpan, shut his mouth and left without another word. Holmes, still angry, but already feeling guilty, sat angrily in the chair. Moments later the front down slammed.

Holmes looked over at the syringe he had filled earlier in case he would need it. The knowledge that it would release his half-crazed mind from the painful claws of boredom was too tempting. He needed it. He needed something to do.

His mind was rampaging like a train and he could barely understand why he had to be like it. Sometimes his mental capabilities seemed more like a curse to him. He was trapped by his mind, hardly being able to function without a problem to work itself through. He needed stimulation like water, and the lethargic day was compounded with a slow week that left him at the mercy of the liquid he slowly injected into his arm.

Watson never seemed to understand. He would criticize the cocaine and morphine with vehemence, but he couldn't possibly understand Holmes' problem.

But Holmes felt badly for what he had said nonetheless. He hadn't meant to sound so cruel. He did want Watson's company, just not his constant mothering and lectures.

He just needed something to do.


	25. I Will Pray For You

_I will pray for you_

_I will pray for you_

_Through every darkness_

_Through every light_

_This road ahead of you_

_I cannot carry you_

_But I can promise_

_I will pray for you_

_Katherine Jenkins "I Will Pray for You"_

* * *

Mrs. Hudson knelt by her bedside, the gentle candlelight flickering on her face as she clasped her hands and looked up at the small cross she had hung on the wall. Then her eyes traveled to the window that was dark as the night progressed.

Watson and Holmes were out there, somewhere, probably in danger as the recognizable shape bulging from Watson had indicated when he'd left with Holmes.

She worried about them. She cared about them. Not just as tenants, but also as dear to her as family.

They probably had no idea that every night they spent out there fighting danger and returning home sick or injured she spent hours kneeling here praying that they'd live through it. She knew for one of them to lose the other would be very painful. She worried herself to pieces some nights, sitting up until she heard them arriving home and then waiting long enough to assess if they were both alright or if one of them would need her help in caring for the other.

For all her threats to evict them, she never could. She needed them where she could keep an eye on them. Where she could settle her racing heart by merely walking upstairs and peeking in their rooms when they were asleep.

It was by their arrival home several hours later that she knew her fervent prayers were heard.


	26. Into The Nothing

_Into the nothing_  
_ Faded and weary_  
_ I won't leave and let you fall behind_  
_ Live for the dying_  
_ Heaven hear me_  
_ I know we can make it out alive_

_Breaking Benjamin "Into the Nothing"_

* * *

Holmes saw him kneeling by the graveside and knew somehow that Watson was crying. He went over slowly, almost unwilling to put himself in the midst of the emotional turmoil. But he couldn't just walk away either.

Coming nearer to his broken friend, he found his hand straying to the shaking shoulder. It wasn't as if his logical mind knew what it was doing, this was something guided by the still small voice inside of him. It was Watson's voice that seemed to be the echo of his heart, the echo of his friend in the way he knelt beside him to offer comfort to him. Something in the way Watson behaved was guiding his actions now, and it seemed to help him.

"I have no family left." Watson said softly.

Holmes sighed, unsure of how to comfort his friend. He had taken his remaining family for granted for so long he was unaccustomed to the sorrow that the loss brought.

"Who am I?" Watson asked.

The questioned startled Holmes. "You are a doctor." He replied quickly, too quickly.

Watson looked at Holmes, tears in his eyes. "That is just a title." He replied. "That isn't who I am. I have nothing."

"You can't define something by absence." Holmes reasoned, a principle from his studies returning to him. "I can't define you based on what you don't have. I can only define you based on what you have."

"And what is that?" Watson challenged, his eyes boring into Holmes. It wasn't a look of anger so much as desperation.

"Me." Holmes answered before he knew what he was saying. "Us… our… brotherhood."

The word was out of his mouth with little though, but upon reflection, he realized it was exactly right.

And Watson's gentle smile told him that it was a mutual feeling. "Brothers?" He echoed curiously, seeming not to believe Holmes meant it.

"Brothers." Holmes held out a hand and Watson took it. The bond was struck.


	27. I Stand

_ I don't care what you think about me or what I say_  
_ I mean every word why should I be ashamed_  
_ I stand_  
_ When everything is falling around me_  
_ I stand_  
_ In spite of all the pain that's around_  
_ I stand_  
_ I stand here with my fist raised high_  
_ When every thing falls, when everything falls_  
_ I stand_

_We As Human "I Stand_

* * *

I stood between the man and Mr. Holmes. He looked shaken, but not so much as his partner who was silently assessing the damage that had been done to his bleeding nose. I had little doubt he would recover his arrogance in a moment, but for now the blow landed by my supervisor had subdued his angry tirade.

"That is enough!" I shouted, daring to get in his face.

"Inspector this is your only warning to get the hell out of my way and let me deal with this busybody!" He roared back at me.

"I will not just step aside and let you treat him with such injustice. He is a step away from solving this fiasco and you are treating him like a dog that you can use to track and then take the credit for the hunt!" I bellowed back.

The man's face turned deep red with anger. "You are through inspector! Get out of my office the three of you before I have you arrested!"

I turned to join the other two who were staring at me with wide eyes. Neither expected my loyalty in this. I had to admit I thought Holmes was rather crazy, but I trusted him. Somewhere in my gut I knew he was right. I had just laid aside my career to follow him. I wondered if I would have cause to regret this decision.

When Holmes said that the treachery ran deep into Scotland Yard, I had disbelieved him. I had swore at him until I was as red as my supervisor. Now I was turning my back on my comrades to chase the trail of an amateur detective.

I looked away and walked slowly out. I heard shuffling behind me as they followed.

When I got outside I finally looked back at the building I had once been employed at. I then saw them coming up to me and sighed. "Well, whatever this brilliant scheme of yours is Mr. Holmes, it looks like I'm in."

Holmes looked at me and there was an expression there that I had never seen before. "That was admirable Inspector." He said, using the title with emphasis.

"Thank you Holmes." I whispered, smiling a bit.

"Now, the game is afoot, and this runs deeper than I first suspected…" Holmes drew us towards Baker Street where we would begin to plan.


	28. Out of My Hands

_There you go changing my plans again_

_There you go shifting my sands again_

_For reasons I don't understand again_

_Lately I don't have a clue_

* * *

He eyed me darkly as I eyed the morocco case longingly. I knew he disproved of the habit, but he had no idea what it was like to be trapped in my mind! For that matter, why should he care? It was my body, my mind, my choice. He didn't have to be around if he disliked it so. But something in the way he had settled into his chair told me he didn't plan to leave whatever my choice would be.

His loyalty puzzled me. His fearlessness where his own life was concerned and his deep compassion for others were mysterious. They didn't usually coincide in my line of work. His remarkable set of qualities was rare.

That was all the more reason that I was confused as to why he had continued to leave his lot cast in with me. After our first case together I expected that to be the end of it, but he seemed to hold on all the more. It seemed like he was eager to join in on others, even though more often then not they strained his health and his patience.

I had expected my first black mood to drive him away for good. He was not deterred. I expected him to at least retreat, but instead he seemed to linger all the more in the sitting rooms, waiting until I wore myself down before taking charge.

I sighed, and within a moment I had decided against the morocco case. I instead turned my attention to the evening papers.

* * *

_Just when I start liking what I see_

_There you go changing my scenery_

_I never know where you're taking me_

_But I'm trying just to follow you_

* * *

I had just gotten settled comfortably when there was suddenly a loud shout from his bedroom. He came bolting out and threw a telegram in my lap. "Hoorah Watson! A case is afoot! We leave for Reading tonight!"

"We?" I echoed curiously, surprised at not even being asked.

He seemed to slump at what appeared to be a unenthusiastic response. "If you would be so good Watson. I would appreciate some inspiring company that doesn't interfere with other plans…"

I smiled to reassure him, surprised at the show of emotions from him. Usually he seemed indifferent to my presence, but he had lowered the mask long enough to get a glimpse of a different man – someone who actually valued my company.

For that, I was more than willing to be whisked away on another adventure. The thrill of the hunt was tantalizing enough, but the mystery of the detective was even more fascinating.

* * *

_There you go healing these scars again_

_Showing me right where you are again_

_I'm helpless, and that's where I start again_

_I'm giving it all up to you_

* * *

He dabbed some strong-smelling disinfectant on my brow and I jerked back and sent him a glare.

"Stop pouting. You're the one that is getting into bar fights." He chided.

"I am fine doctor." I replied, a bit curt in my tone.

"I am not so sure." Watson replied, turning away to set down the cloth he had been dabbing at my injuries with.  
"I did what I needed to. I got the information – "

"Information Sherlock? Is that really what this is about?" Watson asked, leaning back on the table behind him. "All of this for a case? All of this trouble for a pittance of what you could make putting your mind to work elsewhere – "

"Like the official force?" I hissed with disgust.

He paused with a sigh, frowning and looking at the floor.

"Doctor, this is my life. This job is my greatest joy and privilege." I told him firmly, leaving no room for doubt. "But I will not be ruled."

"You will be dead if you don't start showing some caution." He replied.

"Doctor – "

"For once in your life, don't argue with me. Next time you plan something so foolhardy then have me along."

I looked up to argue, but he was giving me a look that made me reflect on that plan. "Very well…" I replied, agreeing to his demands.

* * *

_Move me, make me [Watson]_

_Choose me, change me [Holmes]_

_Send me, shake me [Watson]_

_Find me, remind me [Holmes]_

_The past is behind me [Watson]_

_Take it all away [Holmes]_

_Take it all from me, I pray [Watson]_

* * *

I strolled out of the flat on his heels as we made our way down Baker Street. Old energies were abounding anew and I felt alive. I looked beside me at my companion and realized the distinct change that had come over us. He had removed all excuses and all possible doubt from my mind by showing me I was needed. For my part, I had taken away the barrier he had put between himself and the rest of the world and entered into his sanctum. I had held on when he tried to loosen my grip and forced him to accept the friendship I wouldn't give up on.

All reason was gone. "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true." Our stubbornness bound us together so tight that we could not shake it.

* * *

_It's out of my hands_

_It's out of my reach_

_It's over my head_

_And it's out of my league_

_There's too many things_

_That I don't understand_

_So it's into your will_

_And it's out of my hands_

_Matthew West "Out of My Hands"  
_


	29. Like a Knife

_But what do I know, if you're leaving_

_All you did was stop the bleeding._

_But these scars will stay forever,_

_These scars will stay forever_

_And these words they have no meaning_

_If we cannot find the feeling_

_That we held on to together_

_Try your hardest to remember_

_-Secondhand Serenade "Like a Knife"_

* * *

Watson finished wrapping the bandage around my wrist, avoiding eye contact as his quick and steady work was completed. It was this I had feared. I had almost drifted to sleep, now I jolted awake, realizing he was done.

"Sorry." He offered an apology as though he had hurt me, and not quite the other way around.  
"You didn't hurt me doctor…" I offered, trying to find the words I needed to go on.

"Well, you are on the mend. I will check back on you in a day or two. For now you should remain on complete bed rest with good meals." He said, beginning to gather his belongings in his bag. I watched, dry in the mouth as he turned to go, words still escaping me. I heard the door shut and I stiffened and groaned with pain. How much longer would this stretch on? I was lost without him and yet I could not find the words to let him know. Instead he went on believing I was simply heartless. It was not true in the least. Or, not anymore.

I heard him descending the stairs and perhaps the tell-tale creak that he made on the third step was what triggered my reaction. He only creaked on that step when he was limping because of the way he would hit the edge of the stair.

Leaping from the bed and somehow disentangling myself from the sheets I was at the door before the pain struck me. I still made it to the top of the stairs before I was forced to react with a painful gasp as I unceremoniously stumbled into a crouch in front of my friend and Mrs. Hudson.

"Holmes!" Watson's voice held both a note of fear and all the gruffness of a commanding officer who has been disobeyed. He shed the coat he had been helped into by our gentle land lady and began to climb the stairs once more.

There, I knew my instincts could not be wrong. I noted the way he winced as the pressure hit his wounded leg as he marched up with far more speed then he should have. I saw the small, subtle way he clenched his jaw as he reached my side and knelt, ignoring his own pain in favor of wrapping his arm around me and forcing me to let him support me.

"Holmes you need to rest." He ordered.

"Watson please…" My hand gripped his collar as I tried to gather my breath. The pain flooded all my senses and I tried shaking my head to clear it, but only eliciting a moan from the poor choice. Not my first lately.

"Holmes, you are going to make things worse." His hand on my neck began soothingly rubbing and relieving some of the agony I was in.

I finally managed to breathe well enough to speak what I needed to. I stopped thinking. I forced my great mind to slow down in favor of getting out the words of my heart for once.

"Watson please, don't leave again. Please, I'm lost. I need you back…" The choked words were pleadingly whispered and I could only stare helplessly at him, begging those eyes to stop seeming so cold.

To my everlasting relief, it was only a moment before his face softened and a small smile touched his lips. "To bed with you." He ordered, but this time his voice was a low whisper, and spoke of emotions he had been trying to contain until now.

I felt him gently bring me upright and I struggled to help him as we stumbled our way back into my room. Once there he eased me into bed, redoing the sheets to make me comfortable and then bringing out a chair to sit beside the bed.

"No, you need to rest the leg…" I murmured, already half asleep.

"Let the doctor do the ordering for now." He reproved, though his eyes twinkled as he said it.

"But…" I whispered, groaning as the aching continued to flare in intense waves.

His hand slipped into mine and I gripped it before I quite knew that I was doing so. I knew he was staying, and the relief combined with exhaustion was overwhelming me fast. I had not long left in the conscious world.

"Sleep Holmes. I'll be here." He assured me.

Finally, I could fight his orders no more.

* * *

**Oh to be needed...**


	30. Fall for You

_The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting_

_Could it be that we have been this way before_

_I know you don't think that I am trying_

_I know you're wearing thin down to the core_

_-Secondhand Serenade "Fall for You"_

* * *

The frosty air between us didn't dissipate even as the blizzard outside picked up in intensity. It was keeping us both inside and yet we hid ourselves in separate projects or reading, passing the afternoon in silence.

Mrs. Hudson drew him out long enough to get a smile out of him, which I wanted to ignore, but it was good to see. At least I hadn't put him out too badly for him to respond to her. When he was unresponsive I knew things were deteriorating to dangerous levels.

Despite the reassurance, I was left without a desire to offer any truce. I was still bitterly hurt and angry. I knew the fault lay with me in part, but I was tired of the injured doctor getting all the sympathy.

_You're the heartless one._ Voices reminded me. Of course he would get the sympathy. He was the caring one.

"Something wrong?" He asked me. I realized I was caught staring at him as he ate his lunch and frowned.

"No." I replied.

"I am sorry Holmes." He offered, reaching for his water glass.

I shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly, being the one on the receiving end of the apology didn't seem so wonderful. Suddenly I felt the stab of guilt.

"It was my fault – "

"Hardly. You have your cases and I must learn to mind my own business in that matter. If you chose to follow a course I don't agree with I shall accept it unless it shall cause unnecessary harm." He assured.

"No, Watson, you were right. It was a foolhardy course. I am sorry for not listening to you." I said, looking away.

"Simeon will live I hear." Watson offered gently. "Dr. Golding sent me a telegraph earlier to inform us."

I was relieved my client had not been killed by my wild plans. I nodded my thanks at Watson. "Next time I will listen to your concerns Watson." I promised.

Watson smiled a little. "Well, I am concerned that you are not eating enough. You have skipped too many meals for too long and I am getting a little too pudgy from all your leftovers." He teased.

I quickly joined him at the table, my own face breaking into a smile. "Well, I suppose in the interest of holding back that waistline I shall break down and eat…"

Suddenly, it was not so cold.

* * *

**And forgiven.**


End file.
